


The Tale of the Mourning Phoenix

by Iguanadont



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: Backstory, Female Protagonist, Gen, Mythological, No other Touhou characters, Not set in Gensoyko, References to the Tale of the Bamboo Cutter, Revenge Plot, Touhou Series knowledge not required, Villain Protagonist, fable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:26:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29925129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iguanadont/pseuds/Iguanadont
Summary: In the mythologized version of Feudal Japan. Kaguya the Moon Princess challenges the noble Kuramochi Fujinawa to an impossible task. After his inevitable failure and disgrace, the unloved, youngest member of the clan, Mokou 'Nameless' Fujinawa goes on a personal quest of revenge; intending to restore her family's honour by killing the wrongdoer.My interpretation of Mokou Fujinawa's backstory, based on what details we have been provided with.
Kudos: 3





	1. Nameless

One thousand three hundred years ago, in the wilderness of rural Japan, there lived a beautiful girl whose story would be sung throughout generations. This girl’s name…  
Is not the subject of our story. Our tale is of one whose name was buried, forgotten by the bards that tell these tales. But in order to understand the tale of the Mourning Phoenix, we must first know the tale of another. Kaguya. The legendary princess of the Moon.

Kaguya was the child of a humble bamboo cutter, who had grown very rich in the last three months through methods unknown. Her father tried to keep her identity a secret, but news of her beauty was impossible to stifle forever, and she was eventually able to win the hearts of five mighty nobles. Prince Ishitsukuri, Prince Kuramochi, Minister Abe no Mimuraji, Grand Counsellor Ōtomo no Miyuki and Counsellor Isonokami no Marotari. Nobody would reject a proposal from such powerful men outright, so instead she challenged them to a contest. She would marry the first man to succeed on bringing her their assigned item. The first was to bring the stone begging bowl of the Buddha, the second a jeweled branch from the mythical island of Hōrai, the third a robe of Chinese fire-rat skins, the fourth a coloured jewel from the neck of a dragon, and the fifth a cowry shell born from a swallow.

Each returned to their homes, weeping at the impossibility of their tasks. At the home of Prince Kuramochi, his family had set up a grand feast to herald his victorious return. The extended family had been invited, four brothers and four sisters gathered with their spouses. Instead, the Prince retired from his family, with only the words ‘I need to go to the library’. He did not return.

The Sun rose on the land of the rising Sun, and still the Prince had not emerged from his research. When the door to the library opened, he was still buried among books of myths and legends.  
“How long are you going to be here?” A voice called from outside.  
He didn’t look up from his studies. “Leave me alone!” He snapped, shaking himself as he desperately tried to keep his eyes open.  
“Brother…”  
He hadn’t paid attention to whose voice it was the first time, but this realisation finally made him look up. His fifth sister. She had short dark hair and brown eyes, and wore a simple pink kimono in poor repair. Bruises lined her body, and she wore an expression of worry on her pale face. He composed himself, trying to make his voice impassive. “Mokou. What do you want?”  
She repeated her question.  
“As long as it takes.” The Prince replied.  
She walked over to him, and took a look at what he was reading. “This is what you have been obsessing over? Why are you reading fairy tales?”  
“You ask a lot of questions for a girl.”  
She made a guttural noise and drew herself a little taller. After her resentful silence sat in the room like a blanket of frost, Kuramochi chose to answer.  
“My lady Kaguya has promised me her hand if I can bring her a jewelled branch from Hōrai.”  
“And you are actually going to go along with a lunatic wish like that? Surely you know it’s impossible.”  
“When you fall in love, Mokou. You will understand that it makes lunatics of us all. And the impossible is a small price to pay for it. Now, go on your way. I need to be the one who wins the competition, and distractions aren’t going to help me. There must a hint of its location somewhere…”  
He brought his head back down and continued his studies. Mokou didn’t leave. Instead, she took one of the books he had finished with and began reading it herself.  
“Just in case you missed something. I’ll be quiet, promise.”  
Kuramochi gave a brief smile, and returned to his work. 

Day after day the Prince toiled in that room. Only emerging for food and toilet breaks, he even slept where he studied. Letter after letter went out to dignitaries in every province, asking for something, anything, that could help his cause. All it proved was the impossibility of his task. After three weeks, he concluded that he could do no more at home, and decided to leave the family behind.

The family gathered to see him off. One by one he hugged them and wished them goodbyes with promises of keepsakes for his travels.  
“Mother, Father. I promise I will bring honour on our family name.”  
“And we promise we will pray for your safe return.”  
“No. Pray for my success. That is all that matters.”  
Finally, he turned to the youngest, who greeted him with a scowl. “Is it worth it, Kura? Is it really worth it?”  
“You have never seen her, Mokou. So just believe me when I say, she’s worth it. So, what do you want me to get you when I return?”  
“What I want is to come with you!”  
“Know your place, child.” Her father spoke up. “You will only get in the way.”  
Know your place. You will only get in the way. These had been the calling cards of Mokou’s existence. “I can help. I’ll prove it. You’ve got to let me try.”  
“Sister, Father’s right. Your place is at home, with your family.”  
“You are family. And your quest is a sham! Do you truly believe you will find Hōrai?”  
“Be silent, girl!” The master of the house ordered. “Do you wish to bring dishonour on our name?”  
Mokou hung her head. “No Father.”  
“One day, that attitude of yours will cause you to make a decision you will regret. And when it does, nobody in this family will be able to save you.”

Fear of punishment prevented Mokou from pushing the matter further. She retreated to a tree in the garden, and vented her frustration by hitting it with a stick.  
“He’s blind. They’re all blind. This Kaguya doesn’t love him. That’s why she set the task. Can none of them see that?”

From inside the house, her father and mother watched her exorcise her rage. “What am I going to do with Nameless?” Elder Prince Fujinawa asked rhetorically.  
Not realising this, his wife replied. “She’s not entirely to blame for how she turned out.”  
“And you mean by that?”  
“You never did teach her discipline like the others. Did you guide her as well as you could?”  
“I never spoiled her, if that’s what you’re implying. Treated her as I would any daughter of mine. Besides, she’s may be the youngest, but she’s well placed to learn from her siblings.”  
“Maybe she learned the wrong lessons.”  
Out of respect for his spouse, he chose to ignore her insolence. “Rather than turning this into a blame game on parenting, perhaps you could make your suggestion?”  
“Take her to the matchmaker. She is of age.”  
“And reveal her existence?”  
“It can be any matchmaker. One that doesn’t know you. Doesn’t ask questions.”  
“And what kind of man would take Nameless for a wife? She’s brazen, undignified. Always believes she’s right. She thinks she a son, with a temper to match.”  
“Maybe not our Nameless. But I think many a man would take the hand of Princess Mokou.” The Elder locked eyes with her at this, and she held his gaze. “A husband would be good for her. Teach her honour.”  
The Elder looked once more at the child. Either she had calmed down a little, or she had simply got tired of beating up the tree. But now, she was contenting herself with driving sharpened sticks into the ground like stakes, her mouth still moving with curses.  
In the end, he contented himself with silence.

A month passed with the only word from Kuramochi being a single letter, not from him, but from Kuramochi’s grandfather, the Emperor himself. All he said to the family that he was alive, and the quest to win Kaguya’s heart was ongoing.

“I see him! Kuramochi has returned!” Mokou was in squatting in a tree when she heard the news, and hopped out of her tree to see him. Unfortunately for her, her mother was ahead of her. “Nameless, stay here, out of sight.”  
“But…”  
“You know why. Don’t make me ask again.”  
Mokou didn’t fight this battle, but her mother never asked her how to stay out of sight. Instead, she waited until mother was gone, then climbed onto the roof for a better view. She missed him come in, but from her new proximity she could hear the snippets of the conversation she wasn’t supposed to hear.  
“Fool… Fake… Dishonour on our family.” She heard enough to confirm what she had already known.

Later, she caught up with her brother in private. He was seated in the back garden under Mokou’s tree, looking mournfully at the moon. The journey had taken its toll on the young man; he was more tanned and thinner than she remembered, with deeper shadows under his eyes.  
“Are you going to let me say I told you so?”  
He looked over her with fleeting anger, but allowed himself to chuckle. “Alright, you did. Nonetheless, I do not regret my choices.”  
“What happened? Father sounded angry with you, and not because you didn’t bring a bride home.”  
Kuramochi turned his gaze to his navel. “I couldn’t do it. You can’t get a tree branch from a place that doesn’t exist. So, I did the only thing I could do. I cheated. Got a blacksmith to forge me one.” His tone changed to anger. “And it would have worked too! But the accursed fool sent the bill to Kaguya’s house when I was staying there!”  
“Honestly, I would have cheated too. Seems only fair to answer her challenge in the same vein.”  
Kuramochi snorted. “Tell that to Grandfather.”  
“What’s he got to do with this?”  
“Even he has fallen for Kaguya’s charms. When he found out what I did, he cursed the family name. Dishonour on us all. It’s only a matter of time before his messengers reach our village.”  
Mokou joined the chorus of anger. “But that’s not fair! That witch...”  
“I said the same. But Father said the Emperor’s will is absolute. Perhaps I should count myself lucky, Counsellor Isonokami died in his attempt.”  
Mokou took her out her knife. “The Emperor is welcome to her.”  
“If it was a ploy to take her for himself, it didn’t work. She rejected even him.”  
Mokou heard, but stopped paying attention after that. Biting her tongue so she wouldn’t speak, she made for the library, fondling the knife between her fingers. _I will avenge my families’ honour. My honour._


	2. Arrangments

Mokou did not understand then just what her family’s disgrace would mean for her future. Without their family honour, ‘Nameless’ was spoiled goods. And yet, marrying her away could help restore the family honour.  
The path forward was clear to everyone else in the household. Elder Fujinawa found the girl in the library, mirroring her brother in days past. He stood in the room in silence for a while. If Mokou noticed him, she gave no indication. Finally, he resolved to ease the conversation round.  
“Mokou.” Her head jerked up at the sound of her real name. “I didn’t realise you were an avid reader.” He spoke softly, gesturing to the books.  
“I asked my older siblings to teach me.” She replied emotionlessly.  
“I’m glad. It’s a skill that will serve you well in the future. Speaking of, your mother and I have been discussing it.”  
Mokou looked back down at her book. He continued. “We think it is about time we found you a husband. Recent events have made the situation… ill suitable. But nobody wants to be cooped up here forever, after all.”  
“Whose fault is that?” Mokou muttered quietly.  
“Don’t get smart with me.” He barked back, raising his voice for the first time. He breathed deeply, and returned to his soothing tone. “It may take some time to find you a match. But I expect you to be on your best behaviour when the time comes. Remember the family honour.”  
“I think of nothing else.” Mokou replied. She clutched the thin object in her pocket a little tighter at these words.  
Elder Fujinawa hid his surprise. “Well. Good.” He paused and fiddled with his hands for a minute. _I expected that to be harder._ “Then. Good talk, girl. Um… Keep reading. Yes. Stay. Put. Out the way.”  
He backed out the door. An anticlimactic way to close the door on childhood.

Few matchmakers would defy the will of the Emperor. “Nobody would pay a dowry for a traitor’s name” quoted one consort. For Mokou, the change was subtle. Her parents judging her and punishing her less? Frankly it was an improvement. Then Kuramochi left. Joined the military in the hope of finding honour on the battlefield. And suddenly Nameless realised she had become Invisible. Her parents had never allowed her out in public, denied her existence. But now in private too, they stopped speaking to her. Didn’t even bother to cook for her. One afternoon this weighed on her mind, Mokou thought back to the last time she truly talked with her father, and understood. Until the matchmaker called, she was worthless. Why waste words?

Thus, Mokou was introduced to something new in her life. There had always been other siblings in her life. Now she was alone. And she didn’t understand it. Building a routine was a coping mechanism. She prepared meals herself, and could only be found in three places: comforting her spirit in her bedroom. Honing her mind and writing letters in the library. And testing her knife in the garden. All while fantasising her one goal.  
Revenge. She needed someone to blame. For her loneliness. For her family. For her honour. She chose Kaguya.

“Mokou.” When the time came that her father chose to address her again, she already knew what it was about. “We found a matchmaker willing to screen you. We’ll dispatch you with the servants on Tuesday.”  
“Sure.” Mokou replied without looking back. Elder Fujinawa swept down on her and spun her round to look him in the eyes. This wasn’t enough to intimidate her.  
“Listen to me, girl.” He growled. “We have been working very hard for you. You are going to take this seriously. You are going to be on your best behaviour. None of this disinterest, none of your disrespect. And most of all, none of your temper. Understand?”  
“Understood.” Mokou replied tonelessly.  
Her father released her and began to walk away. “It will be in the Arashiyama District of Kyoto.”  
Mokou’s attention snapped to him. “The Arashiyama district?”  
“Yes. Why?”  
“I’ve always wanted to see the bamboo grove there.” She lied.

Tuesday came, and Mokou was packed off with a list of servants, under orders to protect her, make her look as beautiful as possible on the big day, and most importantly, to keep her under control. Mokou let the commands wash over her. The idea of starting a new life away from her parents wasn’t unappealing to her, but revenge came first. The plan was to arrive in Kyoto the day before she would be summoned, giving Mokou enough time to prepare. She intended to use it. The servants dealt with the essentials. All she did was pack her change of clothes, a rope and her knife. And she stole her father’s signet ring, in case of emergencies.

It was on the way through the bamboo forest heading for Kyoto that she saw her target. Everything she knew about it came from the letters she had written to her grandfather in the library, forging her father’s handwriting. They called it the Palace of the Bamboo Cutter. Palace was overselling it, the bamboo cutter who owned it had come into wealth recently, and expanded his simple home. But it was recent, and the work wasn’t yet finished. Her grandfather had described it with obsessive detail, as if he had stalked its halls for years. He was always so keen to talk about anything relevant to Kaguya. An interest they shared. It would be nightfall she would make her move. By dawn, with any luck, her honour would be restored.


	3. Revenge

Night came. The full moon cast the land in a dull blue glow, enough that visibility was poor, but not impossible. Her servants were sound asleep when she slipped open the highest window of the house they had rented. A rope flew out, and she climbed down it, easy in comparison the gnarled trunks of home. It was a straight shot to the bamboo forest, so she lit a stolen candle and began her journey.

After a few hours of uneventful travel, she saw it. Illuminated by light not her own. Now she was up close, she could see them. Guards in royal regalia.  
“Did the Emperor know about her scheme?” Mokou wondered to herself. “No. I had never even suggested travelling here. He must just care about her safety. Inconvenient. But, too late to not try.”  
She extinguished her light, and readied the tools she had.  
She staked the place out for what felt like an hour, looking for an opening. Despite the large amount of equipment and resources lying around, the number of actual guards was significantly less, almost like they were the clean-up brigade of a wild party. Some of them were asleep.  
“Looks like I was wrong. The Emperor doesn’t care about her safety if this is all he can muster.”  
But there was a guard on duty at the front, eliminating that as an option. No way she would overpower trained soldiers in armour with a knife, even those working on a thread of consciousness. If they saw her, it was over. Finally, she saw something she could use. A giant bamboo growing close enough to the wall that, if you climbed high enough, you could a rope over the skylight on the first floor. It was a tense and painful climb, there was little purchase on the individual plant to work with, but the close packing of the surrounding plants made life easier. Throwing the rope was a leap of faith, but if there was a god or goddess watching, they clearly had it in for her quarry too. Finally, nursing her hands and feet, she dropped onto the skylight. She was ‘inside’ the house.

She tried the door to the skylight, hoping that as it was on the first floor it wouldn’t be locked. This proved correct, but the door swung open with an uncomfortable squeak. She froze like a startled fawn. Stock still, she heard something like a voice. Then footsteps.  
She tiptoed through the door, then ducked around the corner, listening through the opening. For about a minute, nothing but the sounds of the night could be heard. Then, movement. From outside the house.  
She breathed a sigh of relief, then felt around for her knife. Still in her pocket. Time to end this. 

The skylight was connected to the communal room on the first floor, and she knew from her grandfather that there were two bedrooms, both on the same floor. The house was quiet, not even the sound of mice could be heard. Without the light of the moon, the inside was also dark. She felt her way around the walls until she found two doors in the adjoining hallway. She tried the one on her left. It opened without incident, revealing a bedroom with a double bed. Nobody was around. She closed it again. The one on the right, perhaps? She tried it. And it didn’t move.  
She had a second go, placing more weight against it. Rather than hearing the rattle of a lock, it felt more like something had been placed against the door as a barricade. Step by step, she went down the stairs, scanning the kitchen that made up the ground floor. Still nobody, baring the shadow of the guard outside the door. Returning back upstairs, she considered her options. She could stake out both rooms for a little bit. If they were just getting a late-night drink of water, they would return shortly. So, she waited. She heard the guards outside the front door talk a little as they rotated, but there were no other signs of life. What now?

She racked her brains, calmed herself. Go through the options. What is the safest? She could try and break through the door, but even if she succeeded, she’d no doubt alert the guards. That’d require some explaining. Climb around from the skylight? That would be difficult in the day, never mind in semi-darkness. And Kaguya’s room had a skylight of its own, far from ideal to climb over. Could she trick Kaguya into opening the door? She was armed, she could probably overpower Kaguya. But again, the guards. No way to explain that one. How high was it? Ten feet? She could survive ten feet.  
Decided, she knocked lightly on the door. No response. She tried again, a little harder. Still nothing. How heavy a sleeper was she? Giving up plan A, she put her full weight against the door. She felt something nudge. She took a steadying breath, and slammed against it.

She felt something on the other side slip, and kept pushing. Now it was moving, it gave more easily, trundling across the floor until it toppled, crashing to the floor. Mokou heard a door open downstairs in response. Mokou sprung over the wreckage, knife drawn, and leapt into the room. Just like the others, it was empty. The guards thundered up the stairs, and Mokou charged for the skylight. The guard burst into the room just as she jumped. Soft ground greeted her feet sooner than she expected, and the impact rocketed through her, sending her sprawling to the ground.  
“Oh look. A robber. Most interesting thing that’s happened all day.” She heard someone speak from above her.  
Through the pain, she couldn’t see yet. She stashed the knife in her pocket, hoping it hadn’t been seen, and looked up. A spear greeted her, with a faceless figure attached.  
She lifted her hands in defeat.

She was brought into lighter conditions by said Imperial Guards. Their faces were all hidden behind masks, so in the semi darkness, it was if a team of oni had emerged to torment her. One wore a different helmet from the others, and he assumed to role of spokesperson. “Care to explain yourself, child? This had better be good.”

Mokou felt gagged by the air around her. Ideas and cover stories flashed through her mind, most immediately discarded. She couldn’t deny it. She was guilty, and had been caught red handed.  
“I… I wanted to see Kaguya.” Mokou spoke tentatively, trying to sound like a vulnerable, scared child. It wasn’t a hard act for her to pull. “My grandfather has told me so much about her. I wanted to see her.”  
The guard snorted derisively. “Why wouldn’t you just visit her during the day?”  
“I wanted to. My father wouldn’t let me.” She needed to play her trump card as soon as possible, so she added “he says it isn’t safe for a princess to be out at night.”  
Even from behind the mask, Mokou could tell the boldness of this claim shocked the guard. Then, it was followed by dry laughter.  
“A princess? You expect me to believe that a housebreaking rat like you is a princess?”  
Mokou drew herself up to her full height. This wasn’t very impressive; she was about half the height of the man she was trying to intimidate. But as she raised her left hand, she felt like she was about to cast an incantation.  
“I bear the signet ring of the Fujinawa clan. I am Mokou Fujinawa, youngest of the line. I would be more than willing to back up my claim in front of my grandfather if you wished it. You might know him as your employer. Or as Emperor.”  
The soldier examined the ring under what little light they had. It bore the crest of the Fujinawa clan. Even a disgraced noble’s name carries cache, and doubt had now been cast over the guardsmen. It was an unlikely story. But she did have proof. And if there was a chance they threatened the Emperor’s granddaughter by accident…  
“Stolen, no doubt.” The soldier replied. “Besides, your family hails from a different province.”  
“If I were a thief who stole something from a noble in a different province, is it likely that a defenceless child like myself could have made the journey alone? I have been brought here to be introduced to the matchmaker in the morning. Goes by the name of Reina. If you wish, I can show you where my servants are staying. They can back my claim, too.”  
“Suppose I believe this foolish tale for a while. Why would you be so desperate to see Kaguya of all people?”  
Ah. No half-truths could get her out of this one.  
She wilted. “I… I have been writing to my grandfather. And every time he sings tales of her divinity. Kind. Loyal. Beautiful. She is everything that my family wishes I was. Not the rat you see before you. I’m scared of disappointing them. I thought… Maybe she could teach me. Teach me how she won the heart of my grandfather. And my brother Kuramochi.”

“Kuramochi?” The guards repeated the word. The captain silently addressed the guardsman around him, almost as if he was asking them if they suspected the same thing. One of the guards answered. “Takeshi. Our Kuramochi is from the Fujinawa clan. He told me a few weeks ago. Didn’t want to shout about it, told me he dishonoured them.”

This information surprised Mokou. “I thought…” she bit her tongue again. “Sorry.” She continued the thought internally. _I thought he joined the military? Maybe grandfather didn’t like the idea of his grandson being cut down like a commoner, disgrace or no._  
Mokou hoped adding uncommon information would buoy her case. “He failed to claim the jewelled branch from the mythical island of Hōrai. Kaguya had charged him to do so. Please. Let me see him.”  
She gazed up at him, her eyes boring into the mask. Willing him to listen. The mask pondered for a moment.  
“You are to wait in the tent. Under constant watch. We will go to the palace at dawn. If you try and flee, we will cut you down where you stand, princess or not. Do you understand?”  
She bowed as she had been taught. “You have my gratitude.”

When a guardsman says dawn, he means it. It wasn’t even light when Mokou was chivvied out off the ground by ‘Takeshi’ and he, along with two other guards, made their way to the palace. Once they arrived, she was made to wait with the two other guards in the barracks, while Takeshi left to find her brother. Such a situation would be scary by modern standards, but Mokou was more afraid of what would happen to her afterwards.

Takeshi returned with a soldier. He nearly jumped out of its skin upon seeing who it was.  
“Brother!” She made a move to rise from her seat, but a reflex from one of the guards as she did so made her hesitate.  
“Mokou? How did you get here? What are you doing here? Since when did Mother and Father let you leave the house?”  
“It’s been lonely at home without you there. Mother and Father don’t talk to me.”  
“Much as it pains me to interrupt what I am sure would be a heartfelt and tearful reunion, I brought you here for a reason, Kuramochi” Takeshi interjected; the tone of his voice suggested the only thing paining him was listening to the reunion. “I think I can guess judging on your reaction, but this is your sister?”  
“Indeed. Mokou Fujinawa. My youngest sibling.”  
“She claims her parents sent her here to be reviewed by a matchmaker. Can you confirm this?”  
“Mother and Father had been planning it before I left, but no decision had been made at that point. I guess they found someone.” Mokou nodded. “Where did you find her?”  
“Inside the Palace of the Bamboo Cutter. At 11 o’clock at night.”  
Kuramochi turned to Mokou. “What were you doing there?”  
“I wanted to see Kaguya. Ask her for advice before my screening.”  
“That’s the same story she span to us.” Takeshi said.  
“Please forgive me sibling’s insubordination.” Kuramochi said to his superior. “She’s always been something of a loose cannon, hence why my parents aren’t too proud of her.” Mokou recoiled silently at this, but managed to avoid interjecting. “But she’s a princess, not a thief; and she’s spoken of basically nobody else but Kaguya for the past few months. You would have thought she was the one who proposed to Kaguya, not me!”  
Takeshi didn’t laugh. “Very well.” He looked at Mokou. “Nobody was in the house so nobody got hurt, Bamboo cutter and his wife were taken ill yesterday. Because one of my own vouched for you, and because you are royalty, I’ll elect to believe your story. Let’s not speak of this again. Final question though. Why did you run?”  
“I’m a small defenceless child.” Mokou played up the role. “I was scared. Wouldn’t you be scared in my shoes?”  
“Good enough. Kuramochi. Do us all a favour and escort the princess home.”  
As they left, Mokou could have sworn he heard the captain whisper to her brother. “You owe me.”

Once they walked beyond hearing range, Kuramochi felt it safe to speak. “I’m going to be licking his boots for the next week.”  
“Nice guy. Very jolly. Smiles as much as his mask.” Mokou said sarcastically.  
“He’s better when you get to know him. Mostly because you learn when to start boot licking. Still, I’m surprised at you. Thought if you were a housebreaker, you’d break out of ours, not into someone else’s. Think the family will stop calling you Nameless now?”  
“Har ha. You are a comedic genius. My sides are splitting. Like I said. I need to find Kaguya.”  
“You’re a little late. She doesn’t live there anymore. Emperor’s distraught about it. He was planning to send message up Mount Fuji for her later on today.”  
_That’s all I needed to hear._ Mokou decided. Most of the rest of the walk was spent catching up. Kuramochi asked about life at home, Mokou about his new life at the palace. Strange, conversation rarely flowed this readily when they lived under the same roof.  
“It’s a straight shot to my lodgings from here.” Mokou said finally. “Don’t want to keep you from work any longer than I have to.”  
“Alright. Good luck with the matchmaker.”  
Kuramochi turned around and left his sister to her journey. Maybe he’d have acted differently if he knew it would be the last time, he would ever see her.


	4. Hourai

Mount Fujiyama loomed high over Imperial Japan like a vulture. And the smoke that drifted from its peak was a constant reminder that, if it wished, it could make the carrion by the thousands. The Emperor’s messengers did not feel fear though. Loaded with equipment for the climb, they ascended the pilgrim’s path to the mountain goddess Konohana-Sakuyahime. The party blistering with pomp and circumstance. To stand a chance of intercepting the Emperor’s message, she had to keep pace with them.  
“Deep breaths.” She steeled herself. “You can do this. You must.”  
She took her first step of the climb. And another. And so, it began.

One hundred feet. Two hundred. The dilemma was staying close enough to the travelling entourage that she wouldn’t lose them, but far enough away that she wouldn’t arose suspicion.  
Three hundred feet. Four hundred. Smaller numbers normally means better mobility, but the entourage of fit soldiers were making quick progress up the mountain. Mokou on the other hand was scrabbling at the loose rocks, desperate to maintain the pace.  
Five hundred feet. Six hundred. One of the guards jerked his head around. Mokou clattered to the ground. She counted the beats of her heart. Felt her scattered breaths upon the ground in front of her, and tried to still them. After twenty, she risked another look. The royal guards were on the move. She pushed herself to her feet, the rising wind clinging to her.  
Seven hundred feet. Now the cold ripped into her, numbness spreading through her body.  
Seven hundred and sixty. Each step heavier. Each movement harder. Like her muscles were atrophying before her eyes.  
Eight hundred. “You can do this. You must.”  
Eight hundred and ten. Eight hundred and sixteen. How did she fool herself into think she could do this? She cast her head up to the summit. She hadn’t even hit the snowline.  
_I have to do this._

“It’s dangerous to try and climb the mountain alone, you know.”  
Mokou looked up again, and would have jumped at the sight were she not so cold. The entire entourage stood around her, regarding her as some kind of curiosity. And at the forefront, one of them extended a hand.

Handsome certainly, probably in his early thirties. He wore yellow robes and had his black drawn up in a martial ponytail. His face was pale, hollow and unmarked; presumably someone who worked as a vassal for the emperor rather than having seen much war. He had a blade sheathed at his side, and he carried a papyrus and a bottle of something wrapped within the sheet; glowing like a firefly through the paper. Right now, though, he was smiling.

“You’re not going to climb the mountain on grit determination alone. Come on, let me help you up.”  
He did so, and wrapped the quivering girl in some blankets they brought for the night. “Thank you.” Mokou whimpered, when she had recovered enough to speak through her chattering teeth.  
“It was no trouble. What’s your name, little one?” the samurai asked.  
“Mokou. And yours?”  
“Iwakasa. So, tell me. Why are you so determined to climb the mountain? On a pilgrimage?”  
“Yes.” Mokou replied, jumping at the chance to cover her intentions. “I hate to ask, but…”  
“I already know. We are heading up the mountain anyway. We’ll make the climb as a group. Try to warm up quickly though, I’m not carrying you.”

As part of a unit, Mokou found the climb to be uneventful. None of the soldiers were unkind to her, on the contrary, despite Iwakasa’s introduction they treated her like a precious child, to be cared for and protected. A small part of her wished it could have lasted longer.

The sun was setting rose when the convoy reached the top. The wind had dropped to near nothing, leaving thick mist hung in the air around them, and the ground underfoot in white. A carpet of snow and ash. Through the curtain, the crater loomed before them. When Mokou imagined the top of a fire mountain, she imagined a burning pyre sitting atop the peak, constantly alight like a beacon. Instead, it was like staring into a vast well, unable to see the bottom.  
“Stand back, my lady.” Iwakasa advised her. “We have orders from the Emperor, and we don’t need any help.”  
A habitual instinct to object rose within her, but she had no inclination to follow it, like her objection was merely a formality. Almost like they were conducting a ritual of their own, the soldiers began to assemble. At the edge of the pit, they began to build a pyre. They sowed it with an incense she could smell even at a distance. Only then, did Iwakasa place the scroll upon it, rolling it open to the sky and revealing the package within. Excitement gripped her. The opportunity to steal the message.  
“Now.” She muttered. “To the plan.”  
And it was in that moment that she realised. She had no plan. And certainly not one that involved overpowering twenty odd armed guards.

She was still pondering this awkward realisation when her eyes were drawn to the package itself. Not the message that she had wanted. But the bottle. She had never seen a liquid like it. It glowed with an inner light and had the texture of liquid gold, and the fluid shimmered, rose and flowed as if it was constantly erupting in flame.  
“How can water burn?”

She considered this beautiful enigma as the royal envoys stood around, and began to pray. She couldn’t make out their words. The wind began to pick up around them, adding its own chant to the envoys.  
“As our Emperor commands. I shall now cast the Hourai Elixir into the heart of this Holy Mountain. I return to the gods what they blessed us with.” Iwakasa spoke from a script with an orator’s conviction.

“And the gods shall not accept it!”  
The mountain itself roared the reply, and the wind around them began to pick up. Mokou and the samurai darted around, overtaken by fear of an earthquake. A swirling gale whipped up, and before their eyes the wind itself twisted into the likeness of a mirror. From within it, a face appeared.  
Never had Mokou clapped eyes on someone so beautiful. But it was no earthly beauty, simultaneously terrifying and beyond comprehension. She wore robes that seemed to be carved of cherry blossoms. Long dark hair that seemed unmoved by the roaring tempest. A single true blossom sat in her hair as a hairclip, and despite everything, when you looked into her face, it was like she had no features at all. But there was a voice.  
“I am Konohana-Sakuyahime. The voice of the mountain. And I cannot accept this offering.”

Everyone fell to their knees in reverence. After what felt like an age, Iwakasa, still bowed, lifted his head a little to speak with the apparition.  
“Divine one. We did not seek to offend you. Please forgive us.”  
“Rise, Iwakasa. I am not angry.”  
He did so, though everyone else remained bowed. He spoke more strongly now, renewed courage audible. “All we seeked was to carry out the Emperor’s will. To remove the Elixir of Life from this world.”

Mokou felt powerless to vocalise her thoughts in the goddess’ presence, nonetheless, Iwakasa’s words sent her imagination into overdrive. _The Elixir of Life? Immortality? That was the gift Kaguya had given the Emperor?_  
"But you cannot destroy it here. Heed me, mortal. It is not the Elixir of Life you carry. The Hourai Elixir’s magical power is far greater than that. The first drop can heal any wound. But only take the second if you are sure. By the third, you will no longer be human. You will be a doll, a vessel, of Hourai’s power.”  
“What does that matter? I don’t intend to partake in its power. Nor does my liege.”  
“A noble man. A brave one. But, if you cast the Hourai Elixir in the abyss of Mount Fuji, it will awaken the volcano. The magic is so powerful even I wouldn’t be able to supress the mountain’s rage. Rivers of fire will run across the Japan. Your people will choke in clouds of boiling ash. The flame will burn as eternally as any who drinks the mixture.”  
After a pause, Iwakasa bowed his head, and asked. “In that case, the need to destroy it is only greater. No human should be allowed such power. How can I destroy it?”  
“Seek the Yatsugatake.” The goddess replied. There, you will find my older sister, Iwanagahime. I will tell her to expect you. When you reach that sacred place, speak her name three times. She will be able to dispose of it safely.”  
“Very well.” Iwakasa bowed one last time. And with that, the storm dissipated. All was quiet on the mountain once more.

Mokou heard muttering from those around her still in shock and awe at the visitation. She did not pay heed to it nor rise to her feet, locked deeply in her own thoughts.  
_A power so great, even the gods cannot master it?_  
She got her to her feet and watched Iwakasa pluck the glowing bottle from the pyre, and stash it within the holder on his belt once more. Only Mokou and the goddess heard the whisper escape from the child’s lips.  
“Mine.”

The entourage set up camp at the crater’s side, travelling down the mountain by night was not sensible. Mokou retired to bed early, and was asked to sit away from the rest of the group. It was a cold night despite the lack of wind, and the mist still hung in the air. Mokou pulled under the covers, and waited for the sounds of the group talking to die down.  
When they did, she turned herself over to examine the guards. All of them seemed to be asleep. No lookout. After all, what would be the point? She stood up slowly, and squinted through the gloom. Looking for Iwakasa’s yellow cloak.  
The light of the Hourai Elixir still sparkled through the mist. It was close to the edge of the group. Almost the entire troop was between her and him. One step at a time, she crept around the outside, the ashen carpet reducing her footfalls to near nothing.  
Sixteen feet. Ten feet. She heard a crack. She froze, fishing for an excuse for her creeping around. Nothing but silence greeted her. She relaxed. Maybe it was just the fire.  
Six feet. Iwakasa lay on his right side, the Hourai Elixir twinkling through his cloak. Mokou reached for her pocket, and took out her knife.  
A flash of silver, a cry of pain, and the dull thud of her knife hitting the ground. Mokou retreated into a fetal position, breathing deeply and making low groans as she tried to stem the cut. Iwakasa supported himself with his left hand, the right wielding his katana, Mokou’s blood on his cloak. Iwakasa rose to his feet, sword raised.  
“What is the meaning of this?” He spoke softly, feigning calm curiosity, but not disguising his anger.  
Mokou shuffled her hands close to her mouth. And for a moment, Iwakasa eyes followed the glint of gold.  
“You wanted the Hourai Elixir destroyed. I’m just lending a hand.”  
Quick as she could, Mokou downed the Elixir.

Iwakasa panicked and swung his blade without thinking. He felt the steel cut deeper this time, and Mokou screamed in pain, rousing the other guards from their slumber. The bottle fell from her hands and shattered. Mokou collapsed to the floor, bowed as if in prayer. The soldiers gathered round, swords readied.  
Mokou heard a voice ask “what’s happening?” Time hung in the air for a moment as Mokou bled on the ground, Iwakasa standing above her, blade stained with her blood.  
What little vision Mokou had blurred with tears. Her stomach retched with pain, and her heart picked up speed. The sounds of the men drifted away as a feverish ringing began to fill her world. Then something new. Was it… birdsong? It wasn’t like any song she knew.  
Then came the pain. It started in her heart. With the quickening beat, she felt her heart rupture, as if a firework had exploded in her chest. Something had been unleashed, and a guttural, primal scream broke from her. Every fibre of her being was in pain, heat rising in her veins. Her bones.  
Mokou’s skin glowed with a flickering light, growing stronger from within. Then it broke through. The screaming stopped, and a fiery roar replaced it. Golden flames burst from her mouth, causing all the soldiers to step back. Her eyes and ears were consumed by the blaze. It burst in streams from her fingertips, tearing the skin apart. The body of the girl burned away, collapsing into ash. For a moment, an outline of flame stood where she had been. Then, it faded and died like the rest.

Silence hung in the flame’s wake. The heat from it still clung to the skin of the samurai, a final reminder of what Iwakasa witnessed.  
“I’m sorry, Mokou.” Iwakasa finally said.  
As abruptly as it had stopped, a column of flame emerged from the ashes, throwing everyone back and piercing the clouds above. The men scattered further once they hit the ground, still unable to face the heat. The pillar undulated like a heartbeat, causing the air and ash to spiral into a tornado around it, stripping rocks bare. Within moments, even the rocks melted before the blaze. Then within it, a shadow formed. The flames coalesced back into a humanoid shape, and died as abruptly as they had emerged. It was recognisably Mokou—even her clothes had been restored—and yet, it was not. Her hair was now as white as the ash surrounding her, and her skin had an ethereal, even divine, quality to it. She opened her eyes. A burning scarlet.  
“So, that was what death feels like.” She laughed. “I could get used to it.”

She felt their stares of disbelief on her for a long second. “Demon!” One of them cried, charging forward with his blade. Mokou instinctively held up her hand. The soldier swung it at her. The blade bit through her palm burying deep into her arm. Once again she cried, feeling the pain travel through her. But this time she gritted her teeth, and felt the flames rise from the wound. The katana began to bend and glow, then it melted miserably in two. Metal blood pushed out from the wound and dripped to the ground. And then there was no wound. The soldier recoiled, near paralyzed with fear.  
Mokou stared deep into her palm. She began to chuckle. Then cackle. “I’m… It worked! I’m immortal.” She raised her eyes to the sky, howling in delight. “Nameless, Father! Nevermore. I am Mokou Fujinawa. Immortal.” Coming to her senses a little, she turned back to the soldiers. “Let’s see this power the gods fear.” She grabbed her erstwhile attacker by the throat. He only screamed for moment, as she melted straight through his windpipe.

Her gaze locked firmly with Iwakasa, who looked on in horrified silence. Some of the guards broke ranks and fled for their lives. He did not. Instead, he steeled himself with the fervour of a man with nothing left to lose. Part of the Bushido code was to die with honour.

“No human should be allowed to wield such power.” Iwakasa said. “Least of all a child. My friends! We fight for the Emperor!” The samurai who remained drew their blades and charged. Wings of flame sprung from Mokou’s back as she rallied the fire within herself. Cupping her hands together, she released a blast of flame, incinerating one of her attackers, metal, flesh and bone. But the others closed upon her and began their assault. One of them severed her head from her shoulders. Another cut across her abdomen. The scattered pieces exploded in another torrent of flame, sending them all crashing to the ground. Then, the flames coalesced and she reformed once more, as if the wounds never happened. All but Iwakasa gave up there and then, crawling to safety.  
“That hurt.” Mokou spat. She grabbed her knife from off the ground, warped beyond recognition by the heat, and slashed across them a few times. When they all lay motionless, she turned to Iwakasa.

Still weak on the ground, he pulled himself to a kneeling position. “This is how you repay those that saved your life, Mokou?”  
Mokou’s knife crumbled to ash in her hand as she spoke. “And… I will be forever grateful for it.” just for a second, she meant it. But the deranged flame re-entered her eyes, and she scattered the remains of what was into the wind. “However, my revenge on Kaguya comes first.” She kicked him to the ground, looking into his eyes as she stood over him.  
Ikawasa strained against the heat, but laughed dryly. “Is that what this is about? Kaguya? You will never find her.”  
Ikawasa reached into his pocket, and drew out the scroll the Hourai Elixir had been held in originally. Burned, but legible.”  
“A message the Emperor bid us send. To the heavens.” And with that, he collapsed from the heat.

Mokou took the scroll from his hand. It read:  
My Dearest Kaguya,  
I am grateful for this gift. But I cannot accept it, because a life without you, even an immortal one, isn’t worth living. I will have it and this message destroyed atop the mountain closest to heaven, where maybe it will reach you. I hope you know that, wherever you are, you always have a place in my heart.  
Your friend.  
The seal of the Emperor sat beneath it. Mokou read it twice more, refusing to comprehend.  
“She’s… she’s already dead.”  
She crumpled the message in her hand, and watched its ash trickle through her fingers. Rage consumed her as completely as her flames. She didn’t feel like herself anymore. Nor, she found, did she care. She grabbed Ikawasa, and threw him off the mountain. Not enough. She spread her wings to track down the last of the fleeing entourage. No witnesses. Maybe then it’d be enough.

Nightfall the next day, and Mokou found herself roosting upon the Palace of the Bamboo Cutter, the flames dancing around her as it collapsed. The events of the day fleeting and unimportant in her memory. She remembered a bit more causal murder, but little else. The lives of these people. Her family’s honour. The reason she had been sent here. They all seemed so transient now. Worthless.  
Is this revenge enough? What’s left for me? And why? Why do I feel so… empty?  
The Mourning Phoenix had no answers to these questions. Perhaps because she was still young and foolish? Or maybe she didn’t have the strength to face the truth. Maybe one day, maybe hundreds of years into her immortal lifespan, she will learn.


End file.
